


balance

by pistachio_cat



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Healing, Mild Sexual Content, Not Compliant with Avatar Comics, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:40:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24829225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistachio_cat/pseuds/pistachio_cat
Summary: even after all these years, it is hard to resist the princess' call.
Relationships: Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar), Ty Lee & Suki
Comments: 21
Kudos: 211





	balance

**Author's Note:**

> flexing my fanfic writing muscles after what, four years? azula and ty lee are such fascinating characters and i wanted to explore their relationship's dynamics.

Waves break against the boat’s bow, and Ty Lee tastes the salty sea spray on her lips. The ship crests another large wave then dips. It seems to Ty Lee that the sea is always rough when they leave Earth Kingdom waters. She purses her lips and wonders whether the spirits are warning her against leaving or are angry at her return.

“Hey, thought I’d come and check on you.” Suki steps up beside her and places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you feeling any better?”

Ty Lee nods and leans into Suki’s touch. “Yeah, seeing the horizon helps! Thanks for asking.” It’s easier to pretend that her queasiness is due to seasickness.

Her smile must be too brittle, too forced, because Suki frowns and furrows her eyebrows in concern. “Listen, Ty, I don’t want to rehash the same old conversation—”

“Then don’t,” Ty Lee begs, knowing it comes out too sharp, too rushed. “Sorry, Suki. I just— I want to do this. I made an oath to serve alongside you and all the girls, and I’m not going to back down now. No one else knows her like I do.”

“And that’s why I’m concerned. Why we’re all concerned.” Suki says softly, taking both of Ty Lee’s hands between hers. “Sometimes that… history can blind a person. And it means that _she_ knows you. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Ty Lee pouts. “I know. I’m not stupid. Azula has,” she holds up her fingers and counts, “bullied me, threatened me, used me, lied to me, and locked both you and me in jail. None of that goes away, even if Zuko says she’s changed.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it and if she proves it,” Suki snorts, turning away from Ty Lee and leaning against the ship’s railing. “She’s a pathological liar who’s deceived us before.”

Ty Lee can’t argue with that, so she just hums in a noncommittal way that Suki will take as agreement. She wonders why Azula has chosen to return now, three years after her escape into the Forgotten Valley and the many fruitless attempts to find her. In the letters Zuko had sent to request the aid of the Kyoshi Warriors, he had hurriedly described the scene and circumstances of Azula’s return. The details were sorely lacking, in Ty Lee’s opinion, but the Fire Lord undoubtedly had more important issues at hand, and the rough sketch of his letter was enough for her to picture the princess’ homecoming.

Azula, lean and haggard, appearing like a ghost on the palace steps at sunset. Her clothes torn and threadbare, hair ragged and tangled, nails long and unkempt. But still, standing tall with the proud tilt of her jaw, her shoulders square in defiance, those golden eyes glinting in the dying light. The only thing Ty Lee can’t imagine is Azula’s lips, and she wonders whether they were curved in a smile, set in an angry scowl, or pressed in a blank, hard line.

* * *

Zuko thanks them profusely once he finally carves out a spare minute to greet and speak with the Kyoshi Warriors. They are the only ones he trusts with the task of… looking after his sister. The New Ozai loyalists still pose a threat, and he hasn’t yet been able to cull their numbers, leaving the possibility of a compromised fire nation guard. Besides, the Kyoshi Warriors are no strangers to the royal family nor to assassination attempts.

“And besides,” Zuko “these days, I hear you teach chi blocking these days. If anyone can keep an eye on Azula, it’s you guys.” He gives them a small smile.

And he is right. That’s why Ty Lee is here. She is no stranger to keeping Azula in check, to stopping/damming her thunderous, roaring fury. She remembers her hands jabbing, _one-two-three_ , the thud of a body, the hot rage of a princess scorned, and her breath catches in her throat. One of the girls— Shizuka, maybe—squeezes Ty Lee’s hand. The feeling anchors her, pulls her back into the present.

“Her bending is really gone?” Suki asks. Zuko nods. “And Aang, he didn’t—?”

“No,” Zuko shakes his head, and she can see the exhaustion lining his face and dulling his gaze. “He reassured me that he has no knowledge or involvement in the situation and confirmed that her bending is either gone entirely, or so blocked that she will probably never bend again.” The tremor in his voice reflects the equal parts regret and relief that flood Ty Lee’s veins.

Azula without bending. To even think the words seems wrong, sacrilegious. Ty Lee wonders what the princess’ aura looks like now, but all she can envision is bright, blinding blue.

Ty Lee remembers the flames, a blindingly and brilliantly blue, and the steely resolve to help Azula, calcified in her bones, when she visited a prison cell with Zuko, the Avatar, his friends. Fire had spilled from Azula’s mouth, poured in an endless stream from her throat. The searing column of flame rushed towards them, the heat unbearable, and she’d braced herself for the devouring wave of fire—

And suddenly, it was gone. The heat vanished, and the blue light was extinguished. She was left blinking in the relative darkness of the orange torches. Aang had stolen the very breath from Azula’s lungs. Without air, the cerulean tongues of flame died, sputtering into nothingness. Aang’s eyes were screwed shut in concentration as he compressed the airless vacuum inwards, compressing it in a small sphere around Azula.

Ty Lee’s heart had danced in her throat. The former princess had been shackled at the wrists and ankles, her arms held aloft, her body forced into a kneeling position. Even when cowed, she had gnashed her teeth like a wild armadillo lion, had gasped as her throat worked futilely to force air in her lungs where there was none. Her eyes, glinting gold, were full of a rage that made Ty Lee feel like she, too, had been trapped in an airless room. It was the same rage with which Azula looked at her on Boiling Rock, a rage whose only desire was to burn, whose depth was endless.

Azula’s arms wrenched at their shackles, and if the force of her rage were enough, her chains would have burst from the walls. But the skin at her wrists was already chafed raw, old blood crusted on the metal. The violent lurches slowly became spasms as Azula’s air-deprived body shut down.

As soon as her breathing stopped, Aang released his hold. Azula’s unconscious body had convulsed, gasped without thought to pull air into her lungs. Ty Lee remembers rushing forward and striking smoothly, quickly— _one-two-three, one-two-three, repeat_ —until she blocked every chi path she knew. With her muscles rendered useless, Azula’s body sagged, and the chains pulled taut. Toph had moved forward then and flicked her wrist, bending the chains so that they wrapped tightly around Azula’s wrists, ankles, and torso. With a sweep of her arms and two stomps of her feet, she encased Azula in earth, ready to transport her from prison to the mental ward.

It had been Azula’s best and perhaps only chance at recovery. Ty Lee had visited only once, hoping that the white walls and clean-shaven healers would help purify Azula’s aura and piece her back together. The whiteness and sterility were dizzying, and there lay Azula on a table, bound tightly in a straitjacket. It was cinched just tightly enough to allow her to breathe while preventing fire bending, one of the doctors said. After all, fire bending originated in the breath, so it really was quite scientific.

Even as Azula had gasped for air, the venom that dripped from the princess’ lips was as potent as any flame. Ty Lee left to go be sick, vomiting as if the poisons of betrayal and cruelty were tangible things that she could purge from herself. It was Suki who found her, doubled over in the courtyard, and begged her not to go back.

* * *

“So, they’ve sent _you_ to babysit me?” Azula’s voice is scornful, but it lacks malicious undertone. “I’m unsure whether I should be offended that they’re trying to poke at my perceived emotional wound, or flattered that dear Zuzu still considers me this much of an... unpredictable variable.”

“Um…It’s good to see you again too, Azula.” And to her surprise, she finds that she means it. When Ty Lee stares into Azula’s eyes, they are devoid of venom and the lightning that had once signified madness. She is taller, leaner and her fire nation robes hang loosely on her frame, collarbones stark and sharp at the collar. Instinctually, Ty Lee glances at Azula’s hands; her nails are trimmed and filed so short that blood has pooled beneath one of the beds.

“Well, Ty Lee, it’s rude to stare. Even if I _am_ the paragon of perfection.” Azula’s lips twist in a wry smile.

Ty Lee tears her gaze away and laughs softly. “Sorry, Princess.” She watches a leaf fall. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Azula shifts her weight and holds her shoulders a bit squarer, no doubt pleasantly surprised by the use of her old title. “A few years in the wilderness does wonders for mental constitution.”

There are so many things Ty Lee needs to say, so many questions she wants to ask, but she doesn’t know if she wants the answers. And so she lets the silence fall between them.

* * *

“You’re suffocating me.”

“You know you’ve missed it!” Ty Lee singsongs. Still, she releases Mai from her death grip of a hug.

“About as much as a koala-sheep misses a boarq-pine,” Mai deadpans. “I can’t believe you came back.”

“How could I pass up the opportunity to see you and Zuko again! Plus, the weather’s always so nice here. It gets so _cold_ on Kyoshi Island.”

Mai gives her the look and sighs. It is a long, drawn-out thing and even more sullen than usual. Ty Lee is impressed—she’d definitely practiced that one in front of a mirror.

“You guys kissed what, twice during a war campaign and now you’re bending over backwards to spend time with her and see if she’s changed. Seriously, that’s not healthy.”

Ty Lee flushes. “I’m here because Zuko specifically requested aid from the Kyoshi Warriors. I remember very well what she did to us—she threatened _me_ into joining her, not you.” Here, she tries not to sound proud and probably fails. “And it was _three_ times, thank you very much.”

Mai shrugs, unruffled. “All I know is that the less time I spend thinking about or in close contact with Azula, the less complicated my life is. You should try it.”

“I did! I have had a very nice past three years, thank you very much. And now I’m here to do my job.”

“It’s your funeral. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Mai sighs again, but it less belabored. “Listen, Ty Lee, don’t go all weepy on me. You’ll mess up that ghoulish makeup.” It’s Mai’s way of apologizing for her harshness, so Ty Lee forgives her and fans her face to dry the welling tears.

“I can’t believe you actually learned to use those stupid fans,” Mai says, shaking her head. “Of all the weapons in the world…”

“They’d stand up to your knives in any fight!” Ty Lee protests with a smile.

“I suppose there’s only one way to test that theory.” Mai sighs like she is resigned to her fate, but there is a twinkle of anticipation in her eyes as she follows Ty Lee out to the courtyard.

* * *

Azula strikes a match and lights the fire underneath the tea kettle. Though Azula has used countless matches in the past few weeks, it remains a strange sight.

Their teatimes have become something of an unspoken ritual, though Ty Lee knows Azula would scowl at the use of childish label like “teatime” to refer to their meetings. In fact, Azula would probably deny it being a ritual at all. _I prefer the quiet solitude of my thoughts and my four babysitters. Ty Lee simply invited herself along_. Never mind the fact that the first time, there had conveniently been a whole bowl of fire gummies in front of Azula (who despised the candy), available for her to detachedly offer to Ty Lee. Regardless of how it started, they continue to find each other in the palace side room every afternoon.

“So how was the meeting?” Ty Lee asks, eyeing the snacks on the table. She loved Kyoshi Island, but the bland flavor palates often left her craving Fire Nation flavors.

“Dull,” Azula scoffs from where she sits, cross-legged, across the table from Ty Lee. “Petty squabbles over governorships and desperate attempts to secure trade deals to the… former colonies.”

Zuzu the Second chitters in agreement, polishing off the last of the snacks Azula had set in front of him. As a part of their ritual, Azula always sets aside some of their food and a saucer of tea for her new pet. Only after the fire ferret is finished snacking and curls up to nap does Azula pour the tea and Ty Lee reach for the fire gummies. The sugary spice melts on her tongue, and she tries not to think about the situation that necessitated a food-tasting fire ferret, nor the sad fate of Zuzu the First.

It’s nice that Zuko is letting Azula into a modicum of political affairs. She’s steered far away from even vaguely military-related matters of course, and the whole thing is extremely hush-hush. A trial run, Mai had sighed bitterly to Ty Lee, and the former acrobat is certain Mai and Zuko fought about it. He wants to give Azula a chance to heal and help by getting her re-involved in _politics._

Surprisingly, it is Azula who breaks the silence. “It’s amusing, really. How willing people are to see me rehabilitated.” She takes a sip of tea—Iroh’s citrus blend—and her mouth twists in a grimace. “That’s why you’re here. I’ve considered it from every angle, and it is the only logical conclusion. You have unresolved feelings about betraying me, perhaps you even feel that your abandonment contributed to my… mental lapse. So you couldn’t resist the opportunity to welcome me back into society proper and mold me to your wishes.” She knocks a fist against the table; Zuzu the Second wakes with an indignant yelp.

“I’m here to guard you, Azula.” Ty Lee replies simply with what is mostly-the-truth and smiles, even though her heart aches. For what, she can’t quite name. Her mind flits away, far away to when they were laughing children racing down these hallways, Azula always two steps ahead of her, leading the way. Azula had shown off a new fire bending move to Ty Lee, once, and in her eagerness had underestimated her own strength. The heat of the flame had singed Ty Lee’s braid, scorched her sleeves, and left her skin an angry red. She remembers the pure panic washing over Azula, her eyes wide, hands flapping and stamping out the flames, the too-high/shrill pitch of her voice as she in the same breath called for Li and Lo, demanded that Ty Lee forgive her, and begged that her father hear nothing of it.

Present-day Azula stands sharply and suddenly, her face dark with displeasure. Once upon a time, the sight would have churned up both fear and arousal in Ty Lee’s stomach. The four on-duty Kyoshi Warriors tense, hands moving their weapons in anticipation of a fight. In the space of a heartbeat, Azula relaxes and schools her features into icy neutrality.

“Please, relax,” snorts Azula. “I’m not about to assault your precious Ty Lee.” She places Zuzu the Second on her shoulders, turns to Ty Lee, and tilts her head. “Walk with me.”

Ty Lee sits, still and quiet for just long enough to be insulting. “Well, I suppose we can’t leave you unattended.” She shrugs and gives the four other girls a sheepish smile before stretching up.

“Well then, they may follow,” Azula comments dryly. Zuzu the Second chitters as they retread the old, familiar hallways. Ty Lee can feel the concern radiating from her fellow Warriors as they trail in the shadows, two steps behind. It is almost reminiscent of being tailed by the Dai Li.

* * *

Suki leans on the railed edge of the castle’s parapet, her gaze cast to the horizon. Her aura is decidedly dim. Ty Lee joins her, swinging her legs and dangling them over the edge. The ground is dizzyingly far away, but her body feels so light, like she could float.

“You miss him a lot today,” Ty Lee notes sympathetically. Suki tears her gaze from the cloudless sky, and there is a wistfulness in her gaze.

“Yeah, I do.” Suki’s kimono rustles as she cups her face with her hands. Ty Lee knows that on days like these, Suki’s thoughts are treading a path smooth—when will her duty intersect with Sokka’s again? She slips her hand through the crook of Suki’s elbow.

“Sometimes I wish we could just… be.” murmurs Suki. “And just fight the same battle together, like we used to.” A thoughtful pause. “Don’t tell him, but I miss his corny puns.”

Ty Lee giggles— cute as he was, Sokka certainly did not need an ego boost when it came to his jokes. “They are pretty bad.”

“It’s what makes them good.” Suki leans her head on Ty Lee’s waist, and they are still.

Ty Lee thinks about Suki, the most selfless person she knows. She bore the cost of leadership wordlessly and slipped into her responsibility effortlessly, as if it were a mantel made just for her. Suki gave Ty Lee the chance to make things right, to atone for every blow, every deception, every disastrous step that she had spent chasing Azula, always two steps behind. She hadn’t held stolen identities, taunts, and prison time like a gavel over Ty Lee’s head. Instead, she had become her friend.

Ty Lee ponders Suki’s daily sacrifices in comparison to her own singular, unselfish act. Her body trembles at the physical remembrance, the blocking pattern she has executed thousands of times in her life— _one-two-three_. And she thinks about all the others her hands have felled: earthbenders, Sokka, her sister Warriors. Thinking about it all gives her the sensation of walking on a tightrope. She leans back to stare at the sky and wonders where the balances of her actions fall.

* * *

“Really, the sheer pettiness is unbelievable, though I suppose it’s to be expected of Earth Kingdom peasants,” seethes Azula from where she lies prone on the bed. “If she hadn’t _insulted_ me first—”

Ty Lee hurriedly swaps places with Shizuka, whose eyes are burning so brightly that any firebender would be impressed. “Suki sent me to relieve you,” she whispers. “Go grab some tea and get some rest. It’s late.”

“I can’t believe you taught them chi blocking,” Azula seethes. It would have been much more intimidating if she weren’t splayed facedown like a sea star. Ty Lee sits down on the edge of the bed and resists the urge to brush a wayward strand of hair from Azula’s face.

“If you promise not to cause anyone bodily harm, I’ll help undo the paralysis.”

  
Azula glowers at her in that petulant, haughty way. Ty Lee waits patiently. “Fine,” she mutters at last. “I promise to act perfectly docile.”

Ty Lee beams and scoots closer to Azula, her thighs pressed against the curve of the princess’ side. She closes her eyes and hums, taking in the sensation of Azula’s aura. Her hands ghost over the fabric of Azula’s robes, feeling the corded muscle and the contours of her body, tracing and taking in the pathways of her chi.

She knows Azula would loathe the deep sadness mixed with pity that stirs in her stomach. Azula’s chi no longer feels fractured and jagged, like her body is trying to separate itself from reality, but everything in her is now utterly tangled. Her chi thunders hopelessly against closed-off pathways, some trails flowing nowhere, and others snarled in the entirely wrong direction. It reminds Ty Lee sadly of when one of the circus’ platypus bears tangled itself up in a metal net. The more it struggled, the tighter the mesh had cut into its flesh.

She moves her fingers to just under Azula’s where the knotting is the worst, just beneath her shoulder blades, and strikes her softly. Azula grunts but does not object or complain. Ty Lee moves her fingers to the top of Azula’s lung meridians, up on top of her shoulders, and rubs gently but firmly. She works her way down Azula’s back, loosening up seized muscles and untangling chi where she can.

She passes over Azula’s ass and pauses just for the fraction of a breath before placing her hands on the backs of Azula’s supple thighs. Perceptive as ever, Azula notices the hesitation and there are hints of self-satisfaction and… nostalgia in her voice when she speaks:

“I see your time with earth peasants hasn’t made you soft. Your hands are just as skilled as they were the night before I conquered Ba Sing Se.”

Heat creeps up into Ty Lee’s cheeks, even though she knows Azula is being purposefully suggestive and over-insinuating for the express purpose of making Ty Lee flustered in front of the others. She makes the tactical decision to remain silent. It is an ancient memory, the thrum of anticipation and arousal that had coursed through her body that night Azula had allowed her to coax the tension from her body in a tent in the Earth Kingdom countryside. She wonders if Azula also remembers how the air had warmed as Ty lee had massaged the knots out of her muscles.

“Sometimes, in the wilderness, I would feel the ghost of your fingers pressing against me. Hallucinated it, I suppose. I knew they were your fingers because they were so gentle, but in the quickest instant they could inflict searing pain.” The fingers of Azula’s left hand twitch as Ty Lee’s knuckles knead her calf, and she wiggles them experimentally. “I have allowed very few people to touch me, and you are the only one whose touch was ever… pleasurable. Though I suppose in the end, it didn’t matter.”

At last, Ty Lee finishes her meandering journey down Azula’s body and releases the tension from the arches of Azula’s feet. “Azula—”

The princess sits up slowly, unsure of her body’s newly restored capabilities. She raises a hand and brushes her fingers against Ty Lee’s jaw. A shiver races through her body like lightning.

“I suppose my touch has hurt you, as well,” muses Azula. Her eyes glint in the dimming light. Unbidden, the memories flood her mind’s eye: Azula’s nails digging into her flesh, Azula’s grip painfully tight around her wrists, Azula’s hands shoving her down in the courtyard.

“You didn’t know how to do anything else.” _Even if you wanted to._ They both know that she is not saying it as an excuse, but rather as a sad statement of truth.

To her surprise, Azula does not protest, does not look away. “No, I suppose not.” And something like sadness, like regret colors her voice.

* * *

“Get down!” Azula shouts, dropping so quickly that Zuzu the Second leaps off her shoulders and scampers into the darkness. Instinctually, Ty Lee obeys, throwing herself to the ground next to Azula. The garden is lit in a blinding orange, and the heat of the flames singes the bottom hem of her robes.

To their left, a wall of fire roars to life, feeding on the grass and flowers. The smoke stings her eyes, and she tries to assess the situation while blinking tears and coughing up smoke. She and Azula have been cut off from the other warriors.

“Find cover!” orders Azula while staggering to her feet. Instinctively, they both dash for the cover of the trees clustered by the garden wall.

Ty Lee glimpses at least three attackers— _assassins—_ leaping down from the stone wall walkways and estimates from raging inferno that there are at least five others. How many are pursuing them and how many are engaging the other Kyoshi Warriors, she doesn’t know.

“We need to get you out of here,” Ty Lee whispers. These assassins will keep their distance to smoke them out and pick them off, surely aware by now that Azula cannot bend.

“No, we capture at least one alive,” hisses Azula. “Eight total. Three are engaged with the others. The longer we wait to take out these five, the worse our odds.” After a moment’s hesitation, Ty Lee nods resolutely.

A fireball scorches the tree next to them. Adrenaline surges through her body. She crouches, body tensed and waiting for Azula’s signal.

Azula leaps out from behind the cover of the trees to a barrage of fireballs, which she weaves between by pivoting on her feet and leaping forwards, trying to close the distance. Almost simultaneously, Ty Lee springs up, smoothly flips herself up onto the wall’s walkway, and begins running towards the lone assassin perched high for the height advantage.

He spins to face her and punches off a volley of fireballs. But Ty Lee has trained against Princess Azula, whose fire was searing blue and movements unreadable, and these man’s flames are only a dull orange, and he is slow and predictable. In one fluid motion, she ducks, rolls, somersaults, and lands behind him, not a hair of her braid singed. He whips around but it too slow—her hands are already curved into a leopard’s paw strike, and with two swifts jabs he falls, head cracking on the stone.

Below her, there is the sickening crunch of bone, and a man screams. Wasting no time, Ty Lee flips down to the garden level, narrowly avoiding the streaming jet of fire that scorches the stone. Azula has closed the distanced between herself and the other four assassins, whose firebending is now more limited at the close range and proximity to allies. Using the close quarters to her advantage, Azula has gracefully managed to use the weight of one of her attackers against him by twisting his arm as he lunged until it snapped.

One of the assassins has turned away from the others to target Ty Lee, but Azula sees this and whips out a low kick to unbalance them. It gives Ty Lee just enough time to rush forward and strike, _one-two-three_ , through the chinks in the armor plating. The assassin crumples like a forgotten doll.

She and Azula work in tandem, ducking and weaving between searing fire-fists and fireballs. Without even looking, Ty Lee senses Azula’s motion and counter-positions herself accordingly, almost like they are dancing.

The two remaining assassins manage distance themselves enough to make the situation deadly. Azula curses as she dodges the oncoming flames just a breath too late, the tongues of flame licking her calf. The stench of smoking flesh fills the air. Ty Lee gags. Pure anger floods Azula’s aura. They need to end this.

Acting on adrenaline and reflex, Ty Lee targets the last assassin who burnt Azula and is now aiming to kill. Her fingers point like spears to deliver two blows to the back and one to the liver. A pitiful, strangled cry escapes his lips as the breath is forced from his lungs, and he collapses on deadened legs while clutching his abdomen in agony.

She pivots to see Azula dash then _leap_ forward, two fingers aiming to gouge out the eyes of their final assailant. If it weren’t for her injury, she would have been quick enough. But her burnt calf betrays her, and she falls short. The attacker drops into the twisted dragon stance in order to aim at both her and Azula. Flame blooms, bright and beautiful in the fist pointed directly at their faces. Azula’s eyes shine in the reflection of flame. Ty Lee cannot see the rest of her face, but she imagines Azula’s mouth twisted in a hateful snarl.

Then, the fire engulfs them.

Ty Lee feels the scream burst from her chest but hears nothing. The world has gone silent. She feels the roaring heat but no pain.

Then—impossibly, inexplicably—the fire is drawn away from Ty Lee and towards Azula, where it twists and spirals into a whirlwind of flame. She sees Azula’s arms moving in a wide, graceful arc. To guide the flames, her extended index and middle fingers circle in a motion she mastered when she was eight. She guides the fire higher and higher until it dissipates, and there she stands. Unharmed, as is Ty Lee.

Her assailant is frozen in shock, and it is the last mistake he makes. Despite the fact that Azula’s face mirrors his shock, she does not hesitate to transition from her firebending form into a series of prices blows, finishing with a nasty uppercut that snaps his neck backwards.

Azula hobbles over and, without hesitation, leans down and snaps the man’s neck. She does the same for two of the other attackers and is about to dispose of the fourth when pauses and looks up at Ty Lee.

“Where’s the last one?” she rasps, her low tone betraying her urgency.

As if emerging from a trance, Ty Lee points up slowly to the walkway, where the last man lays. “I think he’s unconscious—he hit his head…”

“Check,” Azula grits out. “Please.”

Ty Lee can count on one hand the number of times Azula has said that word. She feels like she is moving sluggishly, as if in a dream, and rolls the assassin’s body over. His pulse is faint but there, and he is out cold.

She makes her way back to Azula and nods in confirmation. Azula’s mouth is set in a grim line, and there is a sickening crunch of bone as she kills the fourth assassin, leaving only the unconscious one on the wall alive. From somewhere far away, Ty Lee hears the other Warriors’ voicing calling to them. They have finally managed to stamp out the raging fires.

To Ty Lee’s surprise, Azula does not demand, does not beg for her silence about what happened. The princess remains silent and stoic. _Azula, firebending._ Ty Lee closes her eyes to see the image of Azula, wreathed in flame, and feels like she is falling.

* * *

“When did you regain your bending?” Ty Lee asks, her voice hushed so that the guards outside will hear nothing.

If Azula is surprised that Ty Lee clambered up the wall and through the window to speak with her in private, she doesn’t show it. Slowly, she sits up in the bed. “That was the first time I have been able to do so since… my escape to the Forgotten Valley.”

“How can I trust you?”

A sigh. “Surely you felt my chi the other night. Not even my father could have firebent with such energy. I suppose there is little else I can say to convince you. It would only make sense for me to lie to you, in order to bide my time to plan an escape or an attempt on Zuko’s life. I suppose you must trust me.” She smiles wryly and slips out from under the covers to stand across from Ty Lee. “I must admit that I am curious—you have yet to tattle on me to dear Zuzu. Tell me, Ty Lee, what is your foolish reasoning? Surely they should know that I am _dangerous_. And please, I beg of you, don’t give me any grief about saving your life. It was purely unintentional.”

Ty Lee crosses her arms. Against all logic (Suki was going to kill her), she _did_ believe Azula was telling the truth about bending. She had never been very good at hiding her emotions during the heat of combat, whether it was smugness, anger, or delight. So, in this case, Ty Lee was inclined to believe the shock Azula had displayed had been genuine.

As to Azula’s question, well…

“If I told them, they’d shut you up again. They barely agreed to let you walk around because you’re less of a threat without bending.” It is uncomfortable to say, but Ty Lee knows it is true. She has seen the way everyone reacts to Azula _without_ her bending, on edge and skittish and suspicious as a mole rat. “And, well… I guess I also wanted to see what you were going to.” She bites her lip. “But you haven’t made a run for it or done anything remotely sneaky. Which means you have some other sort of plan, don’t you?”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” Azula shrugged, studying her nails. “You’re smarter than everyone gives you credit for—figure it out.”

Ty Lee ignores the backhanded compliment and thinks about the captured assassins, how they all spat at Zuko’s feet and glared at Azula with hatred. She thinks about how Azula’s long walks stray into the farther reaches of the royal grounds, where guards are scarce. She thinks about how Azula has made no efforts to beguile her guards, to use her firebending.

“You’re using yourself as bait?” Her nose crinkles in confusion as she tries to understand the rest of the puzzle. “But Zuko thinks they’re just part of a small splinter group.”

“My dear brother is often wrong,” scoffs Azula as she begins to pace in a circle. “They were bold enough to attack _me_ , the prodigy many believe rightfully deserves the throne, in my own home. That, among other details, is enough for me to seek answers.”

“Why not talk to Zuko about it?” Ty Lee is going to chew her lip raw, at this rate. “I’m sure he can help!”

“Some matters are too… delicate to be entrusted to Zuzu.” Azula stops her pacing right in front of Ty Lee and turns to face her. “I’ve discussed the matter with you, have I not, Ty Lee? Though not entirely by choice, I have trusted you with my secret and my suspicions. Perhaps we could even work together again.” _Like we did before_ , are words unspoken.

Ty Lee wonders if Azula is aware of how close they are, or how much of her milky-white skin is exposed by the deep parting of her robe. They are close enough that Ty Lee can see the pale half-moon scars that mark the slope of Azula’s breasts. Her breaths are steady, even—as is befitting of a true firebending prodigy. Breathlessly, Ty Lee meets Azula’s gaze, which is dark with an emotion that takes the acrobat a moment to recognize on Azula.

_Longing._ Ty Lee _feels_ the temperature of the room increase and sweat beads on her skin. It is softer, lonelier, more desperate than the way Azula looked at her five years ago in a tent outside of Ba Sing Se. Azula’s hands encircle Ty Lee’s wrists. Ty Lee wonders what it is like, to live alone with only your thoughts and fears and failures in the wilderness for three years, and she shivers.

“Stay.” Azula’s voice is low, husky. She is not demanding but asking.

Ty Lee thinks she could get used to Azula asking for things nicely.

* * *

“Please, be careful, Ty. She’s up to something,” is all Suki says. Her worried frown conveys the rest.

* * *

Azula has been exceptionally well-behaved for the past few weeks (perhaps that is what clued Suki in), and there have been no further attempts on her life (and only one on Zuko’s). As a result, she and Ty Lee have been permitted to walk the streets of Caldera in the dead of night. Ty Lee occasionally catches the sound of other guards tailing them, but they hang back enough for her to pretend that it is only the two of them.

“So, where are we headed?” She chirps.

“A place I’ve heard interesting things about,” is all she gets from Azula. For the fourth time that week, Ty Lee wonders when, where, and how in the spiritworld Azula manages to access all this information without anyone, including herself, noticing.

Azula hurries forward, and Ty Lee scrambles to keep up. They go farther and faster than they are supposed to, and Ty Lee’s aura flickers the same way it did when Azula told her she’d be staying for the show.

* * *

Ty Lee should have guessed that a nightly escape with Azula would inevitably end with extortion, arson, and murder.

“You didn’t have to kill all of them,” she accuses as they flee the burning manor, gesturing to the bodies littering the floor.

“They committed treason,” is Azula’s simple justification. “And leaving them alive runs the risk of alerting other anti-monarchists.”

“You don’t think the General’s house _burning down_ will be alert anyone?” Ty Lee is aware of how far her shrill voice carries in the night air. They

“They will assume it is the work of the New Ozai society. Tensions have been rising.” Azula ties a scroll to the leg of the newly deceased General’s messenger hawk and sends it off.

“You can’t believe that anyone will buy that. Especially Suki.” They are racing away from manor, away from the crowds of people who are drawn to the burning spectacle like moth wasps. They don’t stop until they are in a small, secluded park, far away from the carnage.

“It doesn’t matter what Suki thinks,” purrs Azula. “What matters is that I now know the anti-monarchists’ plans and identities and can pit them against the New Ozai society and watch as they tear at each other’s throats. Even if Zuzu—or Suki, for that matter— doesn’t approve of my methods, one can’t argue with results.”

“And now I’m your _accomplice_ ,” Ty Lee hisses, tears stinging her eyes. “I wanted to give you a change to prove you’d changed. I protected you!”

“I know. You’re a hopeful fool, Ty Lee, and I’m a narcissistic manipulator. I’m asking you to protect me like you did at the Boiling Rock, just one last time.” She wants an alibi.

If Azula’s concession that Ty Lee had acted to protect her, not betray her, wasn’t enough to cause the acrobat to freeze in shock, the sight of Azula stripping is more than adequate. “You’re manipulating me,” she stammers. “Telling me what I want to hear.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. The Kyoshi babysitters will be here any moment. Either way, decide quickly, and make it look convincing.” Azula is half-naked, her chest bare and skin shining in the moonlight.

She pulls the princess close, and they tumble to the grass, Azula’s thighs straddling Ty Lee’s hips. Ty Lee presses her lips to Azula’s in a hot, frantic kiss, and knows, as with all Azula-related matters, that she will regret this later.

* * *

“You were _sleeping_ with her!”

All things considered, Ty Lee thinks that might be the least egregious accusation leveled against her. She flinches as Suki’s well-warranted anger and tries to shrink herself into a tiny ball of apology and remorse. So much for Azula’s attempted alibi of giving the other Warriors the slip to have public sex.

“You failed and went against your duty as a Kyoshi Warrior! You let Azula escape! You kept her bending a secret! You lied to me!” When Suki’s voice breaks, Ty Lee wishes she were a timebender so she could go back and fix _everything_.

How far would she have to go back? To when Azula had been constrained to the point she could barely breathe? Ty Lee knows that no number of soothing words would have quelled the fury and madness in those molten eyes. To the… incident at Boiling Rock? But she had done it to protect Mai, and to protect Azula. To the day she decided to join the circus? But Azula had eyes only for ambition and her father, then—not for Ty Lee. To their Academy days, when she had been forced to stand on her fingertips to learn chi blocking, and Azula had eagerly mastered every firebending form? No, nothing could have deterred Azula then; firebending was her blood. To when they were children, playing in the palace courtyards? Even then, Azula was being molded by her father’s cruel hand into a cruel vessel of destruction, and who was Ty Lee to compete with the Fire Lord?

Azula was never hers to save. To atone for. The realization crushes her like a physical weight, and her shoulders crumple.

“I’m so sorry, Suki,” she whispers, knowing with a sinking feeling it isn’t enough. “I wanted to help. I thought I could help, still, even after everything she’s done.”

“I know.” With a sigh, all the anger rushes from Suki’s body, leaving the girl looking tired and defeated. “I need some time, Ty. I have to meet with Zuko. We can continue this later.” With that, she turns and leaves Ty Lee alone with her remorse.

* * *

The metal cell bars are a familiar if disconcerting look on Azula. But the princess seems surprisingly composed and lucid, considering her past experiences with prisons. The arching of one of her sculpted eyebrows is the only indicator of her surprise.

“Did you sneak in, or did they _actually_ you in to see me?”

Ty Lee snorts. “I’m walking a thin enough tightrope as it is without sneak prison visits.” She sits down across from Azula and crosses her legs.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I did my best to convince them that I threatened and manipulated you into the whole debacle.”

She smiles, but it is hollow. “I’m headed home next week, and I’m demoted to basically cleanup duty for until I die, probably, and it might be a few months before Suki speaks to me again, but she’s giving me a 3rd chance.”

“Well, I must be on my 7th chance at this point. If they give me another one,” scoffs Azula. Ty Lee doesn’t know if they will, and the uncertainty frightens her.

“You were trying to help… in your own way.” _The only way Azula knew how_. “You got rid of a threat to the throne… to Zuko. Even the New Ozai Society is crippled by the conflict you started. I’m sure things will look up at some point.” Ty Lee knows she is trying to convince herself as much as she is trying to reassure Azula.

“Perhaps. But I hurt you in the process.” Azula says, like it is the simplest of arithmetic problems. Ty Lee blinks.

“Yes,” she replies. “I thought you needed me.” _Wanted me._ “And… I know I made my own decisions when I went along with you, and that’s my own fault. But I thought that you… that you cared about me, and that maybe I could help you.”

“I do… I suppose…” Azula grimaces. “I never faked my attraction to you, Ty Lee.”

“You know it’s more than that, Azula.”

Azula grits her teeth. “I know, Ty Lee. I—I do care about you, in as much as I can care for another person. I am… not good at caring for others.”

“No, you’re not,” Ty Lee says, more harshly than she meant. Azula flinches, and Ty Lee remembers Fire Lord Ozai’s voice from their childhood: _Again! Almost isn’t_ _good enough!_

“I… will not make excuses. Or ask for your forgiveness or pity. But I know I have hurt you. I shouldn’t have set the circus net on fire… nor let all the platypus bears loose.”

Ty Lee laughs. “No, you shouldn’t have. Though I know you thought your attention flattering.” She pauses, and the words come vaulting and tumbling out. “Listen, Azula. I know you’re trying. And… I know it’s hard. You’re not good at the whole being good thing, which is why all your plan to stop treason was the way it was. And our ways of life are hard to change. And I believe that you care about me, even if you’re not very good at that either.

“I care about you, Azula. But I can’t keep falling into my own way of life when it comes to you. There are other people that I care about and other people who need me.”

“I see.” Azula says, though Ty Lee reads the thinly veiled panic in her voice as, _you’re abandoning me._ “Well, I will not burn your metaphorical circus net again, Ty Lee.” And Ty Lee reads the tremor in her voice as, _I know I don’t have the power to._

“Well, I don’t want to stay with the circus this time, ‘Zula.” She hopes she’s getting the metaphor right. “But I need some time to pack my bags, ok? And I think you need some time, too. That doesn’t mean we can’t ever travel together again.”

Azula peers at her through the bars for a long while, bewildered. Now Ty Lee is _certain_ she’s gotten the metaphor all wrong. “ _Hm._ I am waiting for you to define the boundaries, Ty Lee.”

“Oh!” Ty Lee supposes her extension of the metaphor was adequate. “Well, we could write to each other, and go from there. I’d like that.”

“Very well.” Azula dips her head in assent. “It will give me something to do while I waste away in this cell.”

“…”

“…I would like that as well.”

* * *

The end of the training is even more satisfying when Ty Lee can feel a deep burn in her muscles. She is busy sweeping the dojo mat when Suki drifts over and picks up the spare broom.

“Any word from Sokka?”

“No,” Suki says with a sigh. Silence settles between them.

“Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” asks Suki, breaking the quiet. It is the first time she’s asked Ty Lee in the many weeks since they’ve returned home. Ty Lee makes sure to pause long enough so that her sheer enthusiasm is muted.

“Of course, Suki! I have some extra sweet potatoes sitting around.” They’re Suki’s favorite.

“Thanks.” Suki smiles. “We have a lot to talk about.”

And they do—so much to talk about, in fact, that the sun has long dipped below the horizon by the time Ty Lee makes it home. Her stomach is full, and her heart sparks with the warmth of forgiveness, hope, and the start of healing.

She is about to slip into bed when the messenger hawk alights on her windowsill. Eagerly, she pets the raptor with one hand and frees the scroll from its talons with the other. She unrolls the parchment and squints in the moonlight, already formulating responses in her head.

_Dearest Ty Lee,_ the letter begins; _With a Modicum of Increased Affection, Azula,_ it ends, all in neat, precise characters. Ty reads the words over and over to store them close to her heart. Then, she sits up, lights a lamp, and reaches for her brush.

**Author's Note:**

> honestly not super happy with how the fic turned out. there's so much nuance, a lot of difficult themes, and complex emotions that i don't think i adequately captured. but it's my first time in a long while writing (outside of school lol) and i spent enough time on it that i'd rather it not just die on my drive!
> 
> Update: this fic has been translated to [русский ](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9584490) courtesy of [SmudgeFace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmudgeFace)


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